


A Christmas to Remember (When I'm Gone)

by Writing Cat and Dog (CrowleyGirl)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Smut, Drunk Dean, Drunk Sex, Feels, M/M, Porn with Feelings, S03e08 A Very Supernatural Christmas, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9087370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowleyGirl/pseuds/Writing%20Cat%20and%20Dog
Summary: Dean asks Sam to give him something good to remember. Written by Cat





	

Would she ever stop? She had been kissing him forever now, this red-headed girl that was all over his lap and rubbing up against him with the boniest hips he had ever felt, and he really wasn't interested, but she was very insistent and he was starting to become aroused in spite of himself. Damn him and his stupid male parts! Why wouldn't they just cooperate?  
The girl suddenly reared back to look at him, shifting her surprisingly firm crotch off his leg. When she spoke, it was with a familiar voice:  
"Yeah, that's it, Sammy. Get it up for me. Get it up so you can fuck your big brother."  
What in the world?  
Sam opened his eyes. He was on the couch in the motel room that they had decorated for Christmas, with an empty cup of spiked eggnog in front of him and a drunken Dean straddling his lap, kissing him and rutting against his thigh.  
"Dean, what are you doing? We agreed not to do this anymore."  
"Oh, come on, little brother. Don't you love your Dean? It'll be just like old times."  
"No Dean, this is - this isn't cool, Dean." He was starting to panic.  
"Come on, Sammy, I'm going away soon. Gimme some memories to take with me."  
Sam stopped in his tracks and looked at Dean. The pout on his face was comedic but behind it, someone who knew Dean well could see real fear, more than that, bleak terror brought out by drink and dwindling time. In just a few months, Dean was going to Hell. For him. Sam owed Dean anything Dean asked of him in his remaining time.  
Dean decided Sam had dithered long enough and leaned in to kiss him again, and this time Sam kissed back.

They stripped hurriedly, Sam finishing first and helping his ataxic big brother out of his boots and jeans.  
"Dean, are you sure you're not too drunk to be doing this? Sam asked, looking Dean in his dilated, bloodshot eyes.  
Dean clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, maybe to reassure his little brother, maybe to steady himself. Sam couldn't tell. Either way, the fear in his eyes was now as naked as he was. "Sammy," he slurred. "I'm not drunk enough to be doing this. Now come on."  
He laid back on the edge of the bed and brought his knees up to his shoulders, exposing himself for Sam to see. Hot damn, but seeing his brother like that for the first time in years, folded like a pretzel and practically begging, drove Sam up the tinselled motel room wall.

He prepared Dean more slowly than he ever had before, and naturally Dean writhed and snarled and went absolutely nuts, screaming at him to get the fuck on with it, but Sam wasn't listening because it was different this time. Sam figured Dean needed it this way if he was to stay pure in hell, needed the memory of untainted pleasure, a memory Sam wasn't even sure if his older brother yet had.  
When Sam eventually pushed inside, Dean grimaced for just the barest of moments before he began to whimper in pleasure. His head rolled back and he brought his legs up to wrap around Sam's waist as he began a breathless litany of "fuck" and "please" and "Sam".  
Dean cried as his brother fucked him, Sam's name on every [hitched] breath. "Sam. Sam. Sam. I love you. I love you, Sam," he sobbed as his fingers left imprints on Sam's biceps and his eyes rolled up in his head.  
It wasn't a romantic sentiment. It wasn't that at all. This had always been about something else, a brotherly connection reaffirmed by physical intimacy that they never talked about in the light of day, but nevertheless helped strengthen it into something that could never be broken.

Dean slept peacefully that night in Sam's arms, and Sam looked down at him and resolutely refused to cry.


End file.
